


Daddy is in Prison

by Masterless



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abusive Terry, Bipolar Ian, M/M, The Milkovich house is a shit show, this is really weird and I don't really know what I was doing while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterless/pseuds/Masterless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first sentence Mickey ever understood was "daddy is in prison". He knew what it meant to a two year old, at least. It meant that the other parent, the one who insisted on being called "daddy", was going to be gone for a very long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy is in Prison

The first sentence Mickey ever understood was "daddy is in prison". He knew what it meant to a two year old, at least. It meant that the other parent, the one who insisted on being called "daddy", was going to be gone for a very long time. A very long time in toddler time, anyway. It meant that the nice parent who didn't scare Mickey, the one everyone called "mommy", would be gone for longer in the day, too, and would come home smelling of greasy food and the cheap cigarettes that daddy liked. It meant that Mickey would have to listen to everything Colin said, even if Colin was a butt face who still wet the bed at seven. It meant that Iggy laughed more, that Mandy laughed more, that Colin smiled more, that Mickey would feel happy.

It meant that mommy wouldn't be covered in bruises.

At three, "daddy is in prison" meant food fights that they'd clean up tomorrow. It meant watching movies late into the night while mommy fell asleep on the couch holding Mandy. It meant that Mickey could laugh and yell and cry like a normal toddler. It meant he didn't have to look around the corners when ever he wanted to go into the living room.  
It was always the best when daddy was in prison.

When the beast of the house was away. Because when the cat goes away, the mice come out to play. And Colin sort of looked like a mouse.

At five, the sentence meant that he and his brothers could play in the yard. That they could run around, and that their mom would make tacos once a week. It was shitty, white people tacos, but they were the best Mickey had ever eaten. They got to eat more candy, too. That was when Mickey discovered his love for Snickers. He would stuff his pockets with them when they went out to the supermarket. Mickey's mom would frown and shake her head, but she'd giggle and steal bites of the bars when they were at home. It was nothing new to Mickey.

Things started going downhill when Mickey was eight. "Daddy is in prison" suddenly turned into "daddy is in prison and Colin is in juvie". One horrifying month, half way through Mickey's ninth year, it turned into "daddy is in prison and Colin is in the hospital". But Colin was okay, and soon after it became a regular thing. Daddy and Colin would get caught together, and Colin would get sent to juvie.

It only got worse when mom died. Mickey was ten, Iggy was fourteen, and Colin was sixteen. Iggy cried the loudest, Colin cried the hardest, and Mickey cried the longest. Mandy was allowed to cry, according to their dad. She's a girl. But them? No, Mickey and his brothers got the belt, or the fist, or whatever was in the closest range of his hands. Mickey grew used to the bruises, grew used to the pain.

So when Mickey was eleven, "daddy is in prison" turned into heaven on earth. Sometimes it was just Mickey and Mandy. Less often, Iggy was there, too. Even less frequent than that, Colin would stay home, too.

Then the shit really hit the fan.

There was a short, freckled ginger kid on Mickey's little league team. And boy was that kid dorky. But Mickey liked the dorky, so he stuck by the kid. He let the kid into his inner sanctum. Not for long, because Mickey was pissed at the coach and decided to piss on first base, so the ginger kids older sister didn't want them to hang out anymore. Mickey didn't even learn the gingers name. But the more Mickey thought about the ginger kid, the more he thought about gingers in general, then he started to think about see ginger men. And fucking them. And, even better in Mickey's mind, getting fucked by older, ginger men.

Mickey was doomed.

By the time Mickey was sixteen, "daddy is in prison" turned to "Mandy is the only one at home for the time being". So Mickey wiled away his hours in juvie, let other guys be his bitch, and finally got around to fucking some ginger guys. But never being fucked by ginger guys, like he wanted to be. So Mickey grew even more angsty, even more moody, and even more adamant that he wasn't, even though he was, gay.

"Daddy is in prison" and Mickey was eighteen, getting fucked by Ian Gallagher in said red heads bed, and loving every minute of it. Sure, there was something up with Ian, and it bugged him to no end that he was working at a gay bar, but Mickey dealt with the hand he was given the best he could. He wanted to forget about Fiona's worried glances, the Russian hooker carrying his baby, and, mostly, he wanted to forget about Terry. That man had been the worst person in Mickey's entire life. But it could only get better, right?

Mickey was twenty when Ian broke up with him. When the man he loved ripped out his heart and stomped it into the cold Chicago dirt in a moment of uncharacteristic harshness. And Ian just let him be chased off by his weird half-sister and/or half-cousin. Ian didn't try to contact him until four months had passed. He was begging, pleading for Mickey to forgive him. Ian had seen the error in his ways, seen that he was fucked up beyond belief and needed to get better. It had taken a huge development in Ian's mental state to cause him to see it.

It was six months later that Mickey found out what that huge development was. Ian had tried to kill himself, just like Monica had done. And Ian realized that being like that, refusing help, was being Monica. He wasn't similar because they had the same disorder. It was because of his actions. Mickey took Ian back four months after that. Not because he found out Ian had attempted to take his life, but because he really wanted Ian back, and because Mickey deserved to have what he wanted. So Mickey and Ian became an "item" again. And this time, Mickey didn't hide that he was gay and in love. Mickey still wasn't all that good at public displays of affection, but he really did try.

Mickey and Ian raised Yev with Svetlana. They got their own apartment, Mickey and Svetlana got a divorce, and Ian and Mickey got married. The couple got Yev every other week.

"Dad?" Yev asked Mickey one day. "I get that I can't visit mommy's daddy because he's in Russia, but how come I can't see your daddy?" 

"Well, my daddy is in prison," Mickey said, pulling his son to his side. Ian looked over from the kitchen table, where he was studying for his physical therapy degree, and smiled at his boys. "And he wouldn't really like to see me."

"But wouldn't he want to see me?" Yev's bright blue eyes were pointed directly at Mickey's now. "Doesn't he want to see me?"

Mickey smiled sadly. "Yev, my dad is a bad man. And he doesn't like anyone."

"Oh."

And Mickey swore then that Yev would never tell anyone that his daddy, either of them, were in prison.


End file.
